


and the stars will sing

by Coffee_ghost



Series: Watchers and their priest's [3]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Other, Watcher Grian, Winged Charles | Grian, can i tag this comfort, no beta we die like men, no beta we die like tubbo, philza is a good dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28513593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffee_ghost/pseuds/Coffee_ghost
Summary: Divinity drips from his out stretched wings and from the plumping drops thw worlds are cast in the shadows of fire and heatThis is just grian lore and watcher lorewere not following ATUS watcher rules, cause I have a love for making lore :)
Relationships: Charles | Grian & Original Character(s), Charles | Grian & Phil Watson
Series: Watchers and their priest's [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078538
Comments: 6
Kudos: 109





	and the stars will sing

The transition from human to watcher was meant to be messy, purging all the humanity from a vessel and shaping it into a being was inherently dangerous. 

And yet there was an outlier, a single human who had taken to divinity like a bird soaring over open water. Had grazed his hand along the surface of eternity already. A gift from being older than time, older than even the void that sings to them. 

Grian, the most human of all the candidates for the seventh seat, had dove into the rippling tides of reality and come out with oil slick wings that shimmered as he walked. In and out of blues and purple and green, hues shifting and molting as you watched. Not weight down by the burden of seeing eternity as most were. 

Maybe that's what separated him from them, the sheer underwhelming that came with staring into the face of time. Stretching all around as he changed. 

He had come out different, not better or worse. Grian was still himself, in that way that the void still sings to them sometimes. Or in the way the world would give them broken people, would cradle the one who needed it in its arms tell they were strong.

He was not better or worse within the bounds of divinity. And yet he was not the same.

And years passed, years to them but seconds to anyone else. Flitting from book to book is the echoing libraries, desperately trying to make the others lose composure, break into laughter or to catch a small smile.

He could be watched hunkered over a map, spending countless nights pouring over plans and strategies to make sure the new council was safe.  
That what had happened before could not, would not happen again. 

Grian had pulled divinity, pulled the stars and sun and all that was in-between into himself. Becoming a burning point of heat and light and infectious optimize even when another of their priest's fell dead.

The old council had been reluctant to change. To caught in their old ruts, weigh down by the time they had seen. The youngest of their kind were told only what the elders wanted for them to know. Only allowed to see what was deemed safe. 

And yet attempting to stop the progress of the world was what brought their end.

Plots made in the dark, on the very edges of existence. Whispers of the elders delaying the progression of the world, of attempts to stop the ocean from flourishing or the villages from learning. They were afraid of what would happen in the worlds no longer needed their guidance, and so when the time came they fell.

Not like a shooting star falls, not the echoing morning that sits deep in your chest when you see a star die. They feel like a stone into deep water, rippling consequences of what they had done toppling The sand of lie and broken tradition their thrones had been built upon crumbling.

After they completed what they were tasked to do by the void they flickered. In and out of reality, every reality at once. It made them angry. It made them bold and it made them afraid. They hunted those who whispered in the dark. They raised their hands against those they were meant to protect.

They forgot that all things return to the void, they forgot that she is being vengeful, white hot anger. They forgot that everything they had, every century they had seen was a gift given to them. And every year could be ripped from them for what they had done.

And so it was.

And so the old council was gone, left only as a footnote in their books and a warning of the voids wrath as those who harm hers.

It was grian who had worked the tracking spell into necklace and rings, into beaded bracelets. Pulling away the fabric of reality to stick smaller charms under that, undetected. Small amounts of protection, luck for some, strength for others. 

He hadn't been involved in those affairs in a while. But the snap he felt in his chest and the pulling that rumbled in his bones alerted him to the danger. 

It was his little brother. His baby brother had called for help, and God grian wasn't going to fail him again. He wasn't going to lose his brother again. 

No matter what it was, he'd protect him. 

Traversing between worlds was easy when his wing could catch the last winds of creation and the stars sang as he passed.

He sought the swimming greens and pale blue of his brother, it took him longer than he'd wanted. But leading him to a world shrouded in sickly, infected green, trials of yellow and milky white coating the world, wa she light of his brothers shining wings.and yet the Roots of infections and rot wrapping the world like a spider's web.


End file.
